Okay for an example, yesterday I woke up to my Nmom yelling at me to move a bunch of her stuff out of the garage. I said I’d be up in a few minutes. I came up and while having breakfast, I asked about some medical appointments and a little trip I was supposed to be going on in about two weeks. She yelled at me that she’s never been told anything about the trip, despite us having repeatedly discussed it for the last month. For the next hour I’d keep trying to work out what was going on with the trip, with her constantly yelling at me to “stop yelling at her” despite me raising me voice only once.

Cut to today, where she calls me and tells me to move all my stuff in my room into a corner so she can put more of her stuff in the room. I tell her I can’t do that, so she changes her story and says she only wants a path so she can get to the closet. I oblige and also mention that she made me feel like a burden yesterday. So when she gets home, she calls me upstairs and starts saying that I’m just like my dad (who does the same things she does), is made that I told her how I made her feel (while also not apologizing for it), and said that “you were yelling at me all day yesterday. People can’t believe you talk to me like that”. I replied and told her what had actually happened and she pretty much stopped talking, said a quick “sorry”, and left. This is something that happens with both her and my Ndad regularly. Anyone else experience this with their Nparents?

Yes, this is gaslighting. She is trying to make you question your own reality and feel crazy because maybe YOU can't remember what happened? Hmmmm? I recommend keeping a journal and writing events down, particularly when something like this happens. You will have something tangible to look back on when you start to question, and will know this is just a gaslighting tactic. Good luck!

I second the journal idea! I’ve been through this for years and years with my parents and today found an old journal I had kept when I was probably 19 or 20 and noticed that I had suppressed many memories that I had written down very detailed. I could recall immediately after reading through all of my entries though and it helped me to cope with the fact that I’m not insane for thinking my nparents are actually nparents. I had suppressed these memories because of how painful they were but I was thankful to find that journal because it’s the only one I’d ever written in so who knows what other memories I’ve suppressed that I may never get back.

I feel like something of that nature is what I was always fearful of and why I didn’t want to keep a diary, I was always afraid of it being found and read to exploit my vulnerabilities.. I’m so sorry that your privacy was breached like that, you don’t deserve that kind of treatment

Yes. I would have been terrified if my parents had seen anything personal I had written about myself or them. I didn't even like doing school assignments that required me to write about myself knowing my mom would see it and inform my father. Together they'd pick it over and convince me I was wrong. This happened even on small stuff like forgetting mis-remembering what color/make/model/year car my mom drove when I was 3. If I brought up that scenario now they'd either claim to forget it happened or tell me that's not how it was.

Every time I get personal questions and tests or on school work I get a small panic attack because I can’t tell the truth or else my teachers are going to get alarmed and probably worsen the problem with my parents

I feel this. I wrote a suicide note about a year ago about how mu mother made me feel. She went through my shit and read it and then proceeded to chastise me about how I felt saying that everything I said about her was false and all she has ever done was give me the very best.

My teenage sister currently lives with our Nmom (she's 18 six months from today and then is moving in with me!!!) and this is all she hears. She finally convinced Nmom to allow her to check in to a mental hospital after she started hurting herself in visible (i.e. embarrassing for Nmom) places. She'd been trying to kill herself for months but it wasn't until other people could see it that Nmom cared. She literally said "this is so embarrassing". My response was "yknow what's really embarrassing mom? Your child dying because you were too embarrassed to take them to get help." (I live 12 hours away now so I can say things like this sometimes.)

I understand this so so much. My mom causes both me and my sister so much stress that we have physical scratch marks all over our body. I burned myself to lower my anxiety, my sister destroyed her knuckles on concrete, and on top of that neither of us can eat because of how sick we feel, so we just starve because it's better than throwing it up. But my mother honestly doesn't care and when she sees stuff like that she says it's "stupid" that we could have just talked to her and avoided it all.

This. Even as a 30 year old woman I'm still afraid to keep journals - even one I keep for my sobriety purposes, from having my journal read and being punished for its contents several times growing up.

What is it with NParents and demanding to have "meetings" with their kids? I have never heard of any normal parent calling a discussion with their kid a "meeting" but mine almost exclusively call it that. It's not even "can we talk for a minute?" it's painting you into a corner so they can pretend to ask what time is convenient for you to have a meeting.

This week I've been trying to find old journal entries on an old hard drive that contain examples of abuse. I did find a few things, and like you said, the memories (very well recorded) came back. It's amazing how much of our growing up years we often can't remember clearly. I'm almost scared to think of how much I've repressed. Oy.

When I was in second grade I wrote a note to myself to remind myself how my step-dad has treated me/made me feel on a particular occasion. I found it 10 years later when I was moving out to college (after counting down the days from 107 week). I never realizes that how my parents treated me was unhealthy until studying psychology in college. I wish I would have kept a journal to have a better idea of the things I repressed at a child

I completely relate to this, I wish I would have written down how they made me feel, even the entry I found where really hard things for me had occurred I never once wrote down how that made me feel. I remember having a therapist at the time that gave me homework to write down how things made me feel every day and it was the hardest thing for me because I wasn’t ever used to getting to think about how I felt, I was always made to believe that was too selfish of me.

I had a therapist do this too in my 20s. I had to have a feelings chart and everything because I never got taught to identify how I felt. Probably no one ever asked me. So sad our parents didn't do this for us.

That happens to me, I block out memories and then feel paranoid when i remember bits and pieces. Or sometimes I think maybe my parents aren’t so bad and then I read on reddit stories like this and remember the stuff that they do.

I can second this man. I’m 32 and my mother gaslights me just like this. Telling me I remember things incorrectly. She has always told me I don’t remember things correctly or at all because of the fact I smoke cannabis. Then I started to do tests. I would tell her I saw therapists and that they told me I have something, and I would admit to her I have issues with alcohol (like her) and other drugs (even if I had been taking breaks ft weeks/months) I just wanted to see if she would agree with everything these fake doctors/therapist I made up said about me. Turns out, she believes Dr. Farnsworth’ diagnosis (a name I took from Futurama) over me. I made all this shit up to see if she’d fall for it. She did. That’s when I realized she was essentially mentally ill and her “social drinking” was pretty much just alcoholism.

Best of luck. If you’re younger and want a way to avoid gaslighting. Ask her to write down what you told her (stuff like going away) - If she won’t or finds it offensive, the best advice I can give is turn 18. Honestly. But at least know you’re not alone.

She is good. I love how she drew on fairy tales such as Snow White, Rapunzel, and Cinderella to illustrate the relationship between Nmother and daughter. I could totally relate to Rapunzel (Mother Knows Best) and Cinderella (slave).

One caveat...for folks who have Ns who search their room or who will escalate if they find a journal, or who put spyware on their electronic devices, make sure it's something they can't find.

For example, if Ns have spyware on your computer, you can go to a school library or a public library and make a gmail account they know nothing about with a password they can't guess, and journal there, and just be sure never to visit that account when you're on a device an N might confiscate or might control.

Or don't journal. I got to a place where I was too exhausted trying to find creative ways to write out what was happening to me so I stopped writing anything between 14 and 18. Prior to that I couched things in poetry (reads terribly melodramatic but there are memory triggers) because that was a "tasteful" way to be creative minus anyone ever reading my sloppy solipsism. Then I started getting the grilling on if I was suicidal. I was and still am chemically wonky (I can tell that much) but there was a very long time frame I had to fake happy to get them to forget me again.

My family does this all the time. They'll remember something you did ten years ago but not remember something that happened yesterday (or pretend too). They also don't really give a crap about what you say sometimes so they don't even bother listening to you. You can tell them 100 times that you're going on vacation or going out this Saturday to a party with friends and they'll act like this is the first time they've heard it. In my family they hope you'll feel guilty for leaving them "stranded" and cancel your plans.

They will deny past events that you bring up and if you push it, they will attack you. They'll either say how you only remember the bad times or that you're too sensitive (or both). They'll also whine about how they did their best and/or start attacking you for some supposed bad thing you did. Sometimes you'll get lucky and get a half-assed "Yeah yeah, sorry."

My mom will also cut you off and say how she's aware of her faults and that she doesn't need anyone to tell her them.

My mom will also cut you off and say how she's aware of her faults and that she doesn't need anyone to tell her them.

Oh, this one kills me. Sometimes it's been so hard for me not to laugh when my mom has laid that line on me. Hahahahaha! At least I can laugh about these painful memories sometimes now because they are so ridiculous that you have to keep pinching yourself.

In my family they hope you'll feel guilty for leaving them "stranded" and cancel your plans.

This is my mother's new favorite Thanksgiving tradition. My parents divorced when I was in junior year and I have always been closest with my paternal family, with whom I spend Thanksgiving every year. For 10 years I didn't have a Thanksgiving with mom because she moved to the other side of the country. Her first holiday back in my state she guilt tripped me because I "blindsided" her by telling her for the 80th time that I would be seeing them at around 10am, as I've done for my entire life, and would be coming home to start cooking dinner to have her over. Instead of considering that I don't enjoy (and never asked for) my family as I knew it to be split up, she tried to get me to cancel because she "thought it would be just our day" and "you won't want to see me after already celebrating with them", and she has done it every year since. I just laugh about it now, it's so ridiculous.

Typical sad sack narc. Sounds like something my mom would do or my grandfather. One time we were going to be a bit late arriving there and he started this long "woe is me" speech about how he guesses no one wants to go home for Christmas anymore. Give me a break.

I really just wanted to say thanks for this. This is like a summary of my life, and it’s kind of shocked me in to reality a bit. This is the first time that I’ve really sat down and read through this subreddit, and I really need to get myself in to therapy stat.

I had an abusive, piece of shit alcoholic/drug addict father who I’ve had NC since I was 8 (nearly 20 years). I spent my entire child hood constantly moving around with my mum to escape him. I wasn’t allowed to play on the front lawn in case he would come and take me. When I was a teenager I had to get my mail delivered under a fake name (magazines, cards etc) or to a P.O. Box (more legit mail). When I was 17, I had to take a restraining order out on him and the judge granted me 3 years instead of the 12 months, because my history was so severe. I failed high school because I missed so much school from constantly having to go to court and afterwards a touch of PTSD. I have some horrific memories in my head and anxiety for as long as I can remember. My entire teenage years and through my early twenties, I was so thin I looked like I had an eating disorder, because I used to throw up every morning and wouldn’t eat until lunch because of the stress. Not once during this entire time did my mother get me any help. I’m now entering my late 20’s and have my shit somewhat together. I graduated uni with decent grades (had to work my way through an entry program after failing high school), and I’m now in a job earning a decent salary at one of the most well known companies in Australia. Now I’m kind of settled, I’m dealing with my past issues and next week will be arranging my free therapy sessions through my companies EAP program.

I can’t bring any of this up with my mother though. Any mention of my father and she tells me I’m overreacting. That I had an amazing childhood. That I’m only remembering the bad things. That I’m turning in to her sister (who cut off contact with the family a long time ago). I bring up memories and she shuts them down.

Since I’ve started sorting out my issues, I’ve put on weight because I’m not throwing up every morning. And I’m actually really happy about that. And I’m so comfortable with my body. But she’s not.

A couple of months ago, my past hit me like a truck and I had really bad depression for months. She told me I was lazy. That I could lose the weight if I exercised more.

My mum actually used to be my best friend. But with each day that passes, I resent her more and more. She never got me help through my childhood. I shouldn’t have been so young and in the middle of such an adult situation. She heard me throwing up every morning in high school, and still didn’t get me any help. When I was going through months of court to get my case heard, she didn’t help me then.

It was only when I was so depressed, and everyone else around me was helping me but her, that a light went on in my head.

I’m not crazy, and I’m not only remembering the bad parts. A judge granted my a restraining order three times longer than the usual for a reason.

This comment is crazy long, but writing everything out has been so therapeutic. More than you’ll ever know.

No problem. You will notice that the more time you spend here the more your eyes will be opened. You weren't the only one and most of all, you weren't the one to blame for any of it to begin with (which is I find is such a relief to find out).

My mom will claim I need to get over something that happened weeks or months ago for things that variously happened a day or three ago to two weeks ago. She always extends the time on how long ago bad things happened.

When my mom and I were coming close to NC, I had lunch with her. We sat down and talked about her alcoholism being a major issue (she was passing out on random lawns and got 5150'd at least twice that I know of) and she was claiming she had learned her lesson and would never drink again and yadda yadda. Same stuff she said last time we talked about it.

So I told her this was her final chance. I told her I cannot stop her from drinking when I'm not around, but she is not to drink around me and especially not around my daughter. I specifically said even if it's a holiday (this was around October or early November, I think, and I knew the holidays were coming up). She agreed, said it's reasonable, all that jazz.

So I went to her place for Christmas and brought my daughter along. You can guess what happened.

She tried to hide it. Literally drank out of red solo cups. So sneaky.

Didn't make a scene, but that was when I realized this was hopeless and I needed to cut ties for mine and my daughter's sake.

I called her, told her we were done, and she was like "It was Christmas! I didn't think you meant for Christmas!"

I said "I specifically said holidays were included in this deal, mom."

There's a long pause ".... I don't remember that"

"Well I do. Goodbye" click (it went on a bit more but that's the jist anyway)

Of course they "forget" when they fuck up. Otherwise they'd have to acknowledge they fucked up! It's like when a kid says they "accidentally" ate all the cookies.

When I was after graduating high school I didn't want to go to college. One, I couldn't afford it and two I didn't know what I wanted to major in. And when I tried to explain this to my mother she yelled at me and told me that I either go to college or she was going to kick me out. And the thought of living on the street terrified me, so I went to college.

When we talked about this fifteen years later she said "I said I didn't want you sitting around the house doing nothing, I would never kick you out." At that point I had been mad about this for fifteen years, I remember what happened.

I was raped after a class party in the early morning of the day I graduated from high school. I walk into the house covered in mud and sobbing. My mother takes no notice and just starts screaming at me for being out so late while she was still up cleaning in preparation for my reception. I cry in the shower for an hour and get dressed and go to the senior breakfast.

I mentioned it about 20 years later after she asked what she's ever done to hurt me, and it was "what? that never happened, you told me about it and we talked." I didn't tell anyone about it until my husband 10 years later. There's no way she would have even known it happened. She called me a liar, and I'm like fuck that, I have been chewing on this shit for two decades. It happened.

I was raped after a class party in the early morning of the day I graduated from high school. I walk into the house covered in mud and sobbing. She takes no notice and just starts screaming at me for being out so late while she was still up cleaning in preparation for my reception. I cry in the shower for an hour and get dressed and go to the senior breakfast.

Jesus. I was raped when I was 15, and when she found out (I was out with friends when my GC sister told her, and didn't go home until the next day) she beat me up and dragged me down brick stairs by my hair, in front of my friends, because I didn't come home the night before. Then she snapped my phone in half, and casually added as she walked away from me bleeding and sobbing: "I know about the rape, we'll get you looked at tomorrow".

She's done a lot of very evil things, but I'll never forgive her for this. She also pretends to forget, or play victim because I hold it over her. It's fucked.

I had almost the exact opposite happen... I got kicked out for wanting to go to University. We disagreed about it, not even that heatedly and she calmly sat down and said that she thinks it would be best if I moved out that day and didn’t come back. I had people help me with some of my stuff that day and got a call from her to say that I had 2 days to remove everything of mine or it would be thrown away. She had made threats about throwing away specific things before and always went through with it so I had no doubt that would happen. Stayed when I could with my dad and my wonderful best friend’s family until I went to uni.

I stay generally in contact but very formal (because she has no one else that gives a shit and I make sure she doesn’t end up homeless etc, and because it is best for me if I know roughly what she is up to and where because she has given my details over to loan sharks etc before) and a couple of years into uni she asked me why on Earth I didn’t talk to her properly and I got up the guts to say something actually quite pathetic like ‘well you didn’t exactly want me around, you did throw me out’ at which point she completely denied that I had gone any time not living with her. I was fully completely prepared for her to say that it had been my decision to move out and she had been devastated blah blah blah but she threw me entirely by denying it entirely.
That is what I hate the most, that I always feel like I’ve planned for the worst, but she always throws the exact curveball to make me doubt myself.

Sorry for the long ramble, this is my first time I have properly engaged in this sub as I sometimes have a little glance and it is a little triggering. But thanks, the self-doubt really really gets me.

Yes. It was a damn scary thing to go through. When I was about 12, I got into a silly shouting (not even that loud or serious) match with my older brother right before school. My parting shot was to call him a "fucker" (we were both sort of laughing, and that language was allowed at home on a light basis. "Fuck" was part of my mom's vocabulary.) My mother heard it all, ran in with the Rage Face (wide eyes of hatred, teeth exposed and gnashing) and grabbed my head by my hair and yanked my head down as hard as she could with one hand, smashed the base of my neck with her fist with the other hand, pulled my head back up then backhanded me so hard I flew/stumbled back into the wall and crashed to the floor. All the while screaming at the top of her lungs that 'WE DON'T USE THAT LANGUAGE EVER IN THIS HOUSE!'

I remember i was lucky I had my period because I was wearing a pad which saved my clothes as I had completely wet myself as I was so scared. I ran out of the house shaking and sobbing, not wanting to miss the bus to school. She screamed after me, "You better call me at work as soon as you get home and don't you dare tell your friends what happened!" It was as she knew she did something wrong, wanted me to call her so she could get in my head and "justify" it all, and before I could tell an adult. Which is exactly what happened, as I was brainwashed and terrified of her.

Next day I built up the confidence to ask her why she reacted that way as we had used those words, and I felt her reaction was a bit out of proportion. She paused, said "I don't remember touching you I just yelled." Then she paused, looked sort of blank, said, "Yeah, I did hit you. Sorry." With as much emotion as pouty, angry four year old forced into an apology.

Over the years, many similar repeats of her exploding, screaming, overreacting, beating my ass -- then selectively forgetting about it.

She once told me that she was able to forget her abuse because the "memory hurt me soooo much that I just block it out of m mind!"

How convenient! Wish I had that skill!

Yes. It was a damn scary thing to go through. When I was about 12, I got into a silly shouting (not even that loud or serious) match with my older brother right before school. My parting shot was to call him a "fucker" (we were both sort of laughing, and that language was allowed at home on a light basis. "Fuck" was part of my mom's vocabulary.) My mother heard it all, walked in and grabbed my head by my hair and yanked my head down as hard as she could with one hand, smashed the base of my neck with her fist with the other hand, pulled my head back up then backhanded me. All the while screaming at the top of her lungs that 'WE DON'T USE THAT LANGUAGE EVER IN THIS HOUSE!'

She once told me that the reason she did it was because the "memory hurt me soooo much that I just block it out of m mind!"

Yep! One night my eDad beat me so badly I wet myself too. eDad and nMom were shockingly able to remember/believe it when they used that incident to justify his PTSD claim with the VA. Of course, now that he’s 100% VA disabled the events of that night keep getting revised.

Fuck the gaslighting. I’ll never forget how I felt that night and fuck them for trying to wash the memories away except for when it was convenient for then.

He used beating you violently to justify his PTSD? So uh, he is aware PTSD exists but has, I imagine, never inquired or apologized how his terrible beatdown of you affected you?

Yup, you never forget their shit. All we want, aside from not being beaten and to not feel terrorized by our parents, is justice. Justice in the form of their apology, taking responsibility and owning their actions, and changing of the evil behavior. But that never happens, because narcs gonna narc.

I'm 44 and I can still remember all the terror beatdowns so clearly. Then parents who do that have the gall to whine to their kids, "but you only remember and focus on the bad stuff, never the good times!"

Bitches, you were SUPPOSED to be nice! A few days of good behavior do not erase the terror and PTSD of being violently beaten by the person who is above all others supposed to protect you! And fuck your dad's revisionist history!

It makes me physically ill how abusive parents can get so comfortable with rewriting abuse.

For sure. Earlier this year I had a “come to Jesus” sit down with the the both of them and that’s when I knew trying to maintain some semblance of a relationship was hopeless. It was mortifying, sitting there and watching them actively attempt to use guilt, victim blaming, gaslighting, and making it about themselves during the entire conversation. I’ve been VLC/NC ever since and dealing with a long drawn out extinction burst. I’ll never forget my mother’s words, “next time you see your therapist, ask her how we’re supposed to recover from the way YOU’VE treated US.”

You know, despite all that, I still had terrible guilt this year on Father’s Day. It even prevented me from truly enjoying the time I spent with my own kids and wife. All I did was send a card, no phone call, no other form of contact. I just kept imagining this sad old man sitting by himself. Jokes on me because it didn’t change a damn thing. I guess I can listen to the repulsive voicemail he left me if I ever doubt the decision I’ve made.

It breaks my heart to hear how much suffering and guilt you still feel. Its such an evil form of abuse because they brainwash us. Its not like getting mugged by a stranger. We were trained from day 1 that we owed them. And they always were the victim, and deserves points because they kept us alive after birthing us out.

That they can so comfortably heap on guilt makes us question our sanity. That they can say with no qualms, "WE need a therapist due to YOU!" rips your heart apart. You desperately wish the small part of you that hopes that maybe one day they will see the light and be kind will snuff itself out. Sometimes I can snuff it out for some time, other times it pops up out of nowhere.

Even when I went through a long-term illness that nearly killed me and went on disability, filed bankruptcy, and finally had a one last shot at living by flying to Europe for a special surgery, nothing changed. I wrote them an email the night before the surgery (emails were very rare, we were low contact but they knew I was very sick and in France to try to save my life). I wrote that I was sobbing, terrified, scared it would fail, that I couldn't continue to live with the physical pain and disability of the disease, blahblahblah. These are people with the means, time and money to fly out and be there in case their daughter died. Or perhaps call (they had the number where I was). Or fucking email or skype.

All I got in return? "We are all sure you'll do just fine." A 2 line email from my father, written for the "entire family". Yeah, sure, they really participated in that bullshit email. Assholes.

They didn't know the day of my surgery or the day we'd return to California. I could've died on the table and they wouldn't have known, but worse yet, would not have cared. Usually, people want updates post-surgery for someone they care about, especially if they know the surgery is the last-ditch effort to keep that person alive.

I didn't hear a word for about a year. They heard through the grapevine that I obviously lived but was still very disabled. I think that was what broke what was left of my heart for them. Taught me that my husband would always be there, that certain friends would be as well (but other friends would not give a damn, even 'good, close friends). That was a very painful life lesson, but it helped close that part of my heart that hoped they would one day turn into decent people.

I suppose you just find a way to live with the memory. Try to move on, try to stay away from them, try to heal from their hurt and the guilt. The guilt is the worst. We naturally feel we owe them something, and that the abuse and behavior isn't THAT bad, because "family". But if our friend told us they were under the exact same circumstances, just think how you'd advise your friend to react. Would you suggest to your friend to send a Father's Day card? Or to feel any guilt? I imagine you'd feel very strongly that your friend had no obligations at all to the parents!

I hope one day you will reach the point where you no longer feel guilt and those family holidays just end up being like any other day. It took me a few rounds to get comfortable with that. I was able to just not care anymore about those days. I made other days special to me, or special to people I cared about, matter in my life.

And in the end, Father's/Mother's day are all just bullshit created by the greeting card industry to sell shit.

Mother's day messed me up, no kids myself, so I missed out on nothing but lovely weather. They made their choices, our parents could have a beautiful, loving relationship with us, or at least a civil meal once in a while, but have chosen not to by their consistent, emotionally abusive behavior. Good for you for setting boundaries, I've had a really hard time with NC. Positive vibes and good luck dude.

Have you gotten therapy? I know its the cliche response, but it did wonders for me. Any possibility? Its really hard to navigate through the guilt, brainwashing and confusion that an adult child feels when they suffer parental abuse.

I'm truly sorry. Makes me sick that parents literally commit these crimes, and can justify it away in their heads, and other family members sweep it under a rug. Imagine if a stranger did those things to you - their ass would be arrested.

If you can't access or afford therapy, a good start would be to read up on narc parents, abused adult children of narc parents, etc. That also helped me realize how brainwashed I was and how I owed them nothing, no guilt, NOTHING!

As for the hurt and how it messes with you daily...that's a tough one to get over. Not sure I could've done it w/o therapy. Yeah, I could've lived, but I'd have likely remained untrusting, standoffish, uncompromising and very, very depressed. I hope you can get someone trained to help you. Its so unfair what happened.

I tried therapy for a few months about two years ago, but the therapist really didn’t understand my situation with my parents. I need to find a therapist who understands, which will take time (I have better insurance now, so I will hopefully be able to locate someone under my plan who will be helpful).

But you’re so right- I am a very standoffish, untrusting and depressed adult. Thanks for the push in the right direction, I really do need to give therapy another shot.

I had a shit first therapy as well. It takes so much mental energy to go through the process of finding a good one, but once you do you'll see its well worth it. You deserve to feel good about yourself and to not live under that cloud of misery wrought by your parents. I really hope you can find a great one.

Thanks for your kind words. Yeah, it sucked at the time, but I was lucky that I got into therapy at 25, was able to go no contact and was able to move far, far away. Some people don't get those options.

You know, all I ever wanted - all most kids of narc/abusive parents ever wanted - is first, to not be abused, and second, to get a genuine apology and change of behavior when abuse does happen.

Why is that so fucking hard for a narc parent? They chose to have kids. Then they fucking whine and moan how they are Parent of the Year and they sacrifice SOOO MUCH (I get that some single parents have it very hard, still never an excuse to be a shit parent, but my mother didn't even have to work and my parents lived a very comfortable life!) Why do narc parents behave that raising kids (and my bro and I were good kids) is SUCH a SACRIFICE and SO demanding! Fuck, most of us kids just want them to leave us the fuck alone.

Oh yeah.. ME- "Mom I was ABUSED as a child!!!" MOM- *laughs* "You never worse the same outfit twice!" k......... lol cause having a lot of clothes means you werent abused? LOL thats just a general situation of everything

Lmao that's relatable. Apparently I wasn't abused because they fed and clothed us, and had a roof over our heads. Invested plenty of time in training us to win trophies and things to make them look good. Nevermind the rather classists undertones to the whole "we weren't poor enough for you to be abused" thing 🙄

I suspect it's tied up somehow in the inability to show love or emotions outside of material possessions / love bombing.

Oh yeah. My NM still tries to do this to me. I’m 32, I work in higher education, and I’m pursuing another degree, already receiving a distinguished scholar award for my first semester in the program.

My mother claims I’m a terrible student because I was diagnosed with ADD when I was 8 and used to bite kids at school. 24 years later she still uses my childhood trauma and therapy as reasons for why I’m actually broken and a failure. I’m just like—kk I’m the most educated person in our family, and I’m completely independent. But okay, turn up those gas lamps while I go get you a mirror to look into, MOM.

Oh god what is with Nparents always justifying how they act and feel with “people can’t believe you treat me like this” or “people think you’re crazy” WHAT people you psychos?! My Nmom would completely lie to my face about events the day before, deny doing anything or saying anything I said she did, and would end with “people think YOURE a weirdo and can’t believe you’re so ungrateful” like who did you call in the last 7 hours and hear that from? You have no friends.

N's don't have a memory or live in reality. They have a created narrative that they follow and change and warp depending on the situation and person present. This always confused me as a child because I began to doubt my reality because it was so different from my N's.

Every “talk” growing up was her remembering every friggin detail about a conversation (read: making up extensive and elaborate details). As a kid, I’d default to her account because she’d NEVER not remember something.

I did that all the way up until last year (I’m 24 now) when I had a major anxiety attack and sorta blacked out. Her account of the events completely contradicted physical evidence. What’s worse, is that the lies I realized she was telling offered no benefit to her other than to confuse the facts for me. She gaslit me in a incredibly vulnerable moment in my life for no other reason than to make me question my reality.

The effects of parents doing this go well beyond just making a child question their reality. Every conflict you have is affected, every adult conversation (like, insurance payments), and every event of any significance is affected.

Of all the things my Nmother has done to me in my life, gaslighting has to be one of the worst. I’d offer advice on dealing with it, but I’ve got nothing as I’m only just now coming around to the concept.

She can regulate her emotions so she is projecting on to you. Its your fault she is getting angry and out of control not hers. That is the emotional aspect in my opinion.

It is completely possible that she is so self focused she wasnt listening to you because she didnt think it was important then got mad because she didnt realize what you were saying impacted her (all about the me).

If I ever caught one of my parents hitting any of my future children, I don't think I'd ever speak to them again. You cannot hit a child who isn't your own, that's just wrong on so many levels. I'm so sorry your stepfather did that to your child.

The tale deepens actually. Step-dad told me he had to hit her (2 years old) because she kept tilting her head back when he was brushing her hair. She thought it was funny, that's her sense of humor... I was steaming inside, but I calmly said that that was no reason to hit her. To which he replied... "I should've hit her harder." My biggest regret is not punching step-father in the face. But my daughter was right there when they told me. Unfortunately, her mother let's her go over there still... So I'm waiting for them to hit her again... (Sry, feels good to get that out of my system)

My NMom even tries to change facts like where I went to high school ( now says I never went to the high school I went to, so weird!!) and things that I have evidence for, like texts and emails ( claims I never told her the right day for my kids’ grandparents day at their school but I clearly did in text, email and verbally twice. Needless to say She didn’t go to the school event). I wish I had written stuff down. Both my parents did this, with my Ndad claiming I lied about going to college and my degrees were faked. I don’t understand this behavior at all.

Yes it was strange. How on earth could I possibly fake going to college, all the financial aid and bills I had to pay and my degrees over 4 years? For what reason? I still don’t understand why both my parents were so adamant I lied about schools. To this day, my mom claims I didn’t go to the high school I went to! It totally freaks me out.

My mom does this a lot. I thought it was just her alcoholism affecting her, but sounds like it's not. The most recent thing was she completely forget I'd told her about an infection 2 weeks ago. I called her on it, because she complains about her memory a lot. She said she'd been distracted thinking about a friend's birthday. Okay whatever. Guess she was distracted thinking about herself.

Huh...I never knew what the term “gaslighting” meant before. Thanks for this. My MIL does this to me all the time, telling me “that doesn’t sound like something I would say” or “you know my mind is a sieve” but when it comes to money or other stuff she doesn’t forget a thing.
It makes me feel crazy, like I’m losing my mind.

When I was around seven or eight I'd somehow managed to enrage my mother. I've no recollection of what I did (I think it was around the time we moved, so I was probably not packing stuff quickly or neatly enough?) but I remember what she did very vividly. She smacked me in the head so I fell over, and then she planted her fat ass on my chest and stomach so I couldn't breathe, and then she screamed at me, spittle covering my face. I don't remember what she was screaming about, all I remember is how my face ached, how I couldn't breathe, and how panicked I was.

Years later, when I was in my teens I asked her why she'd treated me like that. She said I was being dramatic and that all she'd done was yell at me. Yeah, right. That is one of my most vivid memories of my childhood.

I remember how whenever she wasn't happy with me, she'd threaten me with foster care, how shitty that system is and how I'd basically be treated like a slave. I suppose that was an effort to shut me up, and make me not talk about it, I've never really thought about that before. I'm 24 now, and I can't help but wonder how different my life might've turned out had I actually spoke up about it, maybe even ended up in foster care.

Idk about anyone else, but I’ve noticed that when my parents act confused about something they actually forgot it. When they instantly snap at me then they’re pretending to forget it for their own benefit

I remember when I was like 14 or 15 my parents were in a custody battle. Before the custody battle I'd usually spend the summer at my mom's and go to this summer camp I really liked. After the custody battle started my dad didn't want me staying with my mom because he thought it'd look better for her, so he offers to send me to a different camp closer to him. It's sorta like a rich kid camp though, and I don't really like too many people there because they're super pretentious. So come next year, the custody battle is still going on but I tell my dad very clearly multiple times that I don't want to go to the summer camp he picked and that I'd rather go to the one at my mom's. Despite me making this very very clear to him he refuses to send me to the camp I want to go to, preferring that I be miserable all summer than to let my mom win like any good parent.

So I tell the attorney who's assigned to listening to us what happened, she brings it up at the next hearing, and the judge basically tells him he's being ridiculous and needs to let me go to the camp I want. So he gets back and starts going on about how I never told him I didn't like the camp he wanted me to go to, and how I should've told him instead of just going through the attorney and for like weeks kept calling me a disloyal son. I kept telling him that we literally had half a dozen conversations about it and that he still wouldn't listen to me so I went over him, but he kept insisting I was just being disloyal for not discussing it with him first.

Absolutely. Just today I was talking to my nmom about how she and my ndad never supported me in anything I'm passionate about and went on a rant about how supportive she's always been. I mentioned an art piece I did my junior year of college which got into the undergraduate gallery that year, and she started saying she "had to beg me to send it to her", despite that I clearly remember I voluntarily sent it the day I finished it. She started mentioning saving everything I've ever done, and she even said "Do you want me to pull the folder on my computer up?" and I said "Yeah actually, I do". She searched around on it for 5 minutes before finding a single folder with 2 pieces of mine, one of which being the photo in question, which you could still see the chalk pastel overlap onto the wall from where I hung it to finish it. She then began backpedaling about how "this is a newer computer and I don't have them on here but they're on the other one still" etc.

There was other stuff in that conversation but even just thinking about it's wearing me out.

i feel like a good idea to “catch” her in the act of gaslighting is having a voice recorder on so you can tell her that she’s lying and so maybe it will stop. i’ve had to do this with my Nsister because she would always say one thing but later change her story so she wouldn’t get in trouble or to make me look bad in front of other people.

one of the last straws was her actually agreeing to go to a therapy session w me (after I stopped sharing as much info w her so she wanted a new source) and the therapist kept calling her out on the gaslighting she was doing in the actual session. funny, she could totally 'remember' things when therapist pointed it out...

I went to foster care when i was in the third grade. I remember clearly my mom holding me down on the floor and hitting me with this really hard sandal. I think it was made of porcelain or something. But she hit my face repeatedly and i went to foster care because of the bruise. Years later when i bring it up she says that she was trying to spank my butt and i fell and she hit my face instead.

was yelled at for 20 minutes today for insisting on the details of an event exactly as I remember them, instead of how my Nmom wants to me to remember them for her convenience. she gets extremely angry like i am a PoS 'betrayer' scumbag 'snake' (though shes such a coward she cant even call me a snake directly, she has to say that 'someone else called me a snake' even though they probably never did) for 'taking the other person's side' (IDGAF about 'sides', im trying to keep shit straight)

Oh yeah. Everything was her idea unless it was bad. Then its all me. This goes back to any subject for anything all the way out to knowing which politicians would get in trouble for stuff. After bringing that up a few times it became an attack on her. "Why do you always try to take credit for things I did or stuff that I said." That gaslighting bullshit is so frustrating.

My Nmom once called me in the middle of the night when I was living at university to try to disprove one of my younger brother's memories. They were arguing and he (M16) mentioned that there was an incident in our childhood when she had screamed at us (we were little kids - maybe 7 and 9 years old) and kicked us out of the house during a thunder & lightening storm and downpour. We hid in the car for several hours knowing she'd get even more enraged if we wandered away from the house. I remember this vividly as it was that day that I realized I was the only person who was keeping my brother safe. My 9 year old mind was coming up with plans for what we could do (how I could provide for him) if we weren't ever allowed back in our house.

Anyway, a decade after the incident happened, my Nmom called me up in the middle of the night all outraged that my brother would accuse her of something like that. She demanded I agree with her while framing it like she wanted my honest answer. I was so fed up with her dramatics and manipulations. I explained that my brother's recounting of that incident was completely accurate. I also added in other details, like how I felt and how terrified I was at the thought of maybe having to go into the foster care system, and how her parting words were a screamed "fucking youngsters!" when she physically shoved us out the door. She hung up on me.

I though my mum just had a terrible memory. She never remembers the bad things she's done, or shifts the reasoning for whatever it was.

Hacking off my beautiful hair when I was about 9 years old, "because I wouldn't brush it" - I remember not even one discussion about self care, just her horrible cutting of my hair while she was raging at me, going shorter and shorter because it wasn't level, "because I moved" rather than that she was shit at cutting hair. So much bullying at school and I was mistaken for a boy a lot after that.
God I am still pissed about that when I remember it, just shows the little regard she had for my feelings and self esteem.

Somebody important died and she tried to hide the funeral arrangements from me - somebody else brought me to the funeral and later she claimed that she had told them to do it.

She called my partner at work to slate me, when he was all I had left, in what I can only describe as an attempt to have him dump me. And forever since she denies doing it. "I don't remember".

She gets away with all this because she comes across so helpless, she's tearful if challenged, she does forget things and neglect herself health wise. But I'm thinking about it and she's N. :-(

I read about hair chopping in another thread and this memory just wouldn't lie still. I included it really because it was an example of her twisting the reasoning to suit herself, that she cut it off because I "wouldn't brush it" yet she never encouraged that kind of self-care, and I didn't have a brush of my own to take to school so by the time I came home it was knotty. She cut it in temper, while I was sobbing and she was bitching at me to sit still.

People used to compliment me on my hair, especially my dad. She used to brush and plait it when I was smaller. I feel a bit like she chopped it off when I wasn't her cute little doll to play with any more, when I was arguing back or whatever.

It definitely felt like a punishment, I don't remember being complimented about anything else other than "being clever" which of course stopped once I was out of our very small school and became just average (read 'inadequate').

I couldn't imagine doing this to my little girl, but I realised last night I have significant fleas and have to figure out how to get rid of them so I don't burden her in turn!

There's an old Zimbabwean proverb from the Shona tribe: "The axe forgets. The tree remembers."

It comes from the practice of pruning trees. The instrument that cut the tree, be it an “axe” or saw, did the job and moved onto the next tree. The cut it made was of little to no consequence to the pruning tool. However, the wound it left behind on the tree will take a long time to heal and will leave a scar. The tree will not ever forget the pruning experience or the tool that was used.

The saying means that a person who harms another someone will often forget, but the person who is harmed will always remember.

I believe that Ns are like the axes in that saying. They actually don't remember. Why? Because--like the axe--they don't give enough of a shit about you and your feelings to bother remembering that they hurt you.

I was 16 and my Nmom, stepdad and I were driving to a city several hours away to visit my grandmother.

We didn't leave until 6pm and my parents had already been drinking. They continued to drink in the car. By the time we'd gone a hundred miles, they decided they were too drunk to drive so I should drive. I'd had my license for less than a year. So I took over driving from my Nmom and she got in the back seat. My stepfather was in the front passenger seat.

A couple of hours go by with me driving. They are still drinking. It was dark by this time and I'd never driven such a long distance. Also, their car was one of those huge cars. I'm concentrating on driving and my stepfather starts reaching over trying to feel me up. He's never done this before. I swat his hand away and tell him to stop. He doesn't stop. He keeps at it. I'm just trying to drive and not kill us.

My drunk Nmom finally realizes what's happening and she has me pull over at the next gas station. We get gas and she gets in the front seat between me and my stepfather. I assume she thought this would stop him from assaulting me. It didn't.

He reaches over her and continues to try and touch me. I continue to swat him away and Nmom is also trying to get him to stop. At this point, his hand hits the gear shift lever and puts the car in neutral.

I'm driving 65 miles an hour down a dark highway and suddenly the engine is revving because the car is in neutral. I panic and hit the brakes hard. Thank god there was no one behind us.

I get the car back in gear, pull over to the side of the road and I AM ANGRY. I never stuck up for myself during my parents abuse of me, but he could have killed us.

I turn to him and tell him, "you can get out here, you can get in the back seat and go to sleep or I can stop at the police station in next town".

He got in the back seat. I drove for another 3 hours to my grandmothers. She had a small house, so I had to sleep in the living room on the couch. The next morning, I wake up to the sounds of my grandmother and my parents talking in the kitchen. I don't want to face any of them, but I eventually have to get up so I do and go into the kitchen to get something to eat.

My stepfather barks an order at me (nothing new there) and I just ignore him. He had been my stepfather since I was 4 years old and he'd never done anything like that before. I can't deal with him. When he realizes I'm ignoring him, he starts talking to my Nmom about how disrespectful I am and what a little bitch I am. She told him to shut up. She never defended me from his verbal abuse before.

Nothing else is ever said about this incident for years and years. Then my Nmom starts asking me about an uncle of mine (her half-brother) who sexually abused me from the time I was in kindergarten until 4th grade when we moved away from him.

I always suspected my Nmom knew about this abuse. How could she not? There were 5 of us kids and I was the only one my uncle ever wanted to take anywhere. He'd show up every 2-3 months and take me for ice cream or some other excuse to get me away from everyone. One time, he wanted to take me camping. My Nmom insisted he take all of us because she and my stepdad wanted to go somewhere.

So we all go camping with uncle. I'm 10 years old. One sibling is 5 years younger than me and the other two are 5 and 6 years older. We get to the campground and uncle tells us he'll go get us burgers if I go with him. I refuse. I guess having my siblings there made me feel like I could say no.

He says then we're going home. So we turn around and drive the 3 hours back home. I guess he called my parents because they were there when we got there. My uncle leaves and my siblings tell our parents what happened. I thought surely they would suspect something was wrong with this picture. Nothing was ever said about it.

The next time he wanted to take me somewhere, my Nmom made me go alone with him. I told her I didn't want to go. She still made me go.

Much later on I started suspecting the reason my Nmom made me go with him was because he helped our family financially. My parents were terrible with money and I learned to lie to bill collectors who called and came to the house before I learned to read. This uncle was always bailing us out of some financial mess or other.

So we're back to the part of the story where my Nmom starts asking about my uncle and if he abused me. I was 23 years old. I told her he did. She starts talking about how she should have known but didn't, blah, blah, blah. I knew she was lying. I just knew it.

So I brought up the incident with my stepfather. She said "that NEVER happened". I was blown away. I know I should have never trusted her, but since she told my stepfather to "shut up" the morning after he tried to abuse me, I never thought she'd deny it happened. I knew at that point she would say anything to keep from taking responsibility for what happened to me at the hand of other people, much less the abuse she, herself, put me through.

It took me another 22 years to go NC with her. When I did, it was a year before she tried to contact me. She said she'd been in therapy and wanted to work on our relationship. She started apologizing for my uncle abusing me. So I mentioned the time my stepfather tried to abuse me and how she later denied that it had happened.

When I was after graduating high school I didn't want to go to college. One, I couldn't afford it and two I didn't know what I wanted to major in. And when I tried to explain this to my mother she yelled at me and told me that I either go to college or she was going to kick me out. And the thought of living on the street terrified me, so I went to college.

When we talked about this fifteen years later she said "I said I didn't want you sitting around the house doing nothing, I would never kick you out." At that point I had been mad about this for fifteen years, I remember what happened.

Oh yes. The last time I spoke to my mother, she asked what she ever did to hurt me, so I obliged and rattled off a list. Denied it all and called me a liar. That was a fun therapy session.

She also makes up family traditions that never existed. My husband's family has a tradition of making crepes on the weekends and calling them hunky pancakes. I mentioned it to my mother once, and not long after she was insisting our family had the same tradition, only we called it grandpa pancakes. My sister went along with it, and I felt like I was losing my mind. I asked her privately if she actually remembers that occurring, and nope. Never happened.

I'm the same way. Authenticity is a strong value for me, nothing exacerbates my anxiety like feeling like someone thinks I'm misrepresenting myself, and my mother not only misrepresenting events but also calling me a liar? Can't handle it. I don't know how my sister manages to be so patient with it.

She seems to have forgotten all the times my stepdad beat me (on the ass) with closed fists while she stood proudly watching. Sheforgets how my sister got away with everything she did wrong while I was pinned for it..

My mother grounded me and wouldn't let me leave the house for over 75% of my teenage years. When my brother was fighting with them and brought it up, my mother scoffed and said she only grounded me once. EVERY SINGLE PERSON I KNOW knows this is completely false. I feel your rage, friend. They will change their story to fit their agenda.

My parents wouldn’t even ground me they’d just refuse to let me leave my house even into college, and the only way I could see my friends wasn’t if they came to my house. Nobody agreed cause they didn’t wanna be trapped in my house with nothing to do all day. I could only chill with them for about an hour after school cause then I’d gotta rush home

Whenever I remind my parents this that snap at me, yelling at me about how they let me go out all the time, gave me so much freedom, etc., and now I never chilled with my friends cause I didn’t have any (they also though that if they didn’t meet my friends then they didn’t exist, hence they thought I only had 2)

I am in my mid 30s and my father was not only a narcissist but physically abusive to me. He to this day will act like he gave me a simple spank, when in reality he would beat the hell out of me. They are sick people that will never ever change.

My nmom is known to “jokingly” call us names (dumbass, idiot, slut, etc.) and when I was in middle school I had some really bad bullying that caused me to actually feel sick when I was called a whore. Nmom had called me a whore once and I told her that I didn’t like that word and asked if she’d not call me that (along with the word dumbass and any similar words to the two)

Early last week, I had spent the night at my boyfriend’s, who I barely get to see because he works nights 5/7 day of the week and when I got home from spending the night, nmom said something about how I spend so much time with my boyfriend just being a slut. Uh, okay what? He’s my boyfriend I’m not just slinging my body over to anyone who looks at me. And then on Friday she had come into my room and nparents can never leave your shit alone, so she went through some of my dirty laundry (who knows why, probably because she had been through everything else in that room) and saw a pair of metallic red booty shorts I had borrowed from a friend for a rave and she goes “oooo goin out lookin like a sluuuuut” in a singsong voice and I told her they were my friend’s and I was washing them and giving them back to her and the conversation dropped. I then went to spend the night at my friend’s house and nmom picked me up on Saturday with my sister and nmom had asked if I knew where a friend was because she had gone missing, nobody had seen her in however long and I told her no, she asked if my friend knew where she would be and I told her I don’t think they even know each other and asked if she remembered how many years younger than me the missing friend is because I always forget if it’s one or two and Nmom says “oh I don’t know, I think she graduated last month. I think I remember her having gone to prom” (which is my school district is seniors only unless you’re taken as a date) to which I said “I mean that doesn’t mean anything. I almost went my sophomore year” and she called me a slut again. Third one within the week. I just shut up and stared out the window because I didn’t want to get in a shouting match. I was so upset I was honestly ready to just tell her to stop the car and I would walk home (we were headed a couple cities over to get tires for my sisters car) and Nmom started talking about one of her Facebook memories and my ex boyfriend blah blah blah and then sees that I had no reaction and wasn’t responding and goes “I’m not calling you a slut” and I yelled at her with that tears in your throat voice because it’s the only voice I could muster up and yelled at her that yes she was and it was the third time she’d said it this week and I was tired of hearing it because it hurt and she yelled at me as if it were my fault that she called me a slut that she didn’t really mean to call me a slut and she hadn’t said it that much that week (to which I told her the examples) and that I hadn’t ever asked her to not call me that because she never said that word that often and I told her I had asked her multiple times not to call me a slut and even if she was joking it still hurt me when it came out of her mouth and she yelled “I DONT REMEMBER YOU EVER ASKING ME NOT TO CALL YOU A SLUT” well yeah idiot because if you remembered I had asked you then that means you would’ve remember calling me a slut. But I did bitch. I did. And the argument ended in her angrily yelling “FINE I WONT CALL YOU THAT ANYMORE” and I just yelled back a “THANK YOU THAT IS ALL IM ASKING FROM YOU” but I don’t need to have to ask my own mother, who is supposed to love me and keep me safe and nurtured, to not call me things that hurt me. She used to be so proud of the relationship she had with “my girls” (my sisters and I) because we could call each other a bitch or any other nasty remarks and we “knew it was light hearted and a joke” and would even post on Facebook about it.

Hell yes. Control through random demands, passive aggressive when I do not comply immediately, won't listen to me, use different tactics to wear me out, pretend to be victim, imply other people think I'm a horrible daughter and that she spoils me.

I wasn't trying to push her away with my feet, I was trying to kick her. I didn't get the cut on my face because she punched me with her long nails, I got it from a zipper. Hell, she'll even inject herself into fun times I had only with my sister, and then get every single detail wrong.

"That's not what happened and you know it" or "you seem to be misremembering quite a lot lately, gonna have to set you an appointment with the doctor I think" can really take the wind out of their sails!

NMom: "Eric, I didn't tell you that I tried to kill myself because of you, that's not what I said"

Well, Me I guess: "Then why the fuck did you apologize for saying it right after I called you out for it when it happened" Why now, years later, did you not say the thing that you apologize for saying.

Shit like that is why I went no contact. Can't trust crazy around my daughter.

This has helped so mucb tyvm everyone. I'm dealing with a lot of guilt because my mom tried to gaslight me with a bs apology where she said she doesn't remember. Then gets pissy and plays victim when I hold her accountable for lying to me.

It's just more of the same shit in a different way since she can't hit me.

Absolutely!! With my Nmom I also experience a lot of quick "sorry" immediatfefuckingly following by "BUT i wouldn't have done xyz if you hadn't abc..." and then we're off to the races again.

Excuse the source, but Dr. Phil has a quote I really like "the word 'but' really means 'forget everything I just said, now I'm going to tell you how I really feel'." With my Nmom that could not be truer.

I used to think my mother was full of fleas, but I am visiting her now and I am convinced that she's a narcissist.

Anyway, she would always tell me that me and my sibling are like my father's family and she is convinced that our perceived to her eyes "wrong behaviour" is genetic and we got it from my alcoholic, absent father.

I experienced something similar... There were times when my Ndad, before moving from home for the second time, told often to almost every customer of his shop, and all his friends, that I never texted him and he never knew where I was, when that wasn't true, because I texted him almost everyday (except for one or two days not consecutive in one week, when it could happen that I fell asleep right after coming back home from work). I understand you, things like this happened also to me a lot of times...

My Nmother likes to insult me daily, only to turn around 5 minutes later and tell me that I am such a LIAR, how she NEVER said that, how I was liar since the day I was born and that my 'lifelong mission' (from my CRIB!!) was to destroy her LIFE. Totally ignored what she herself said and what I said. I am kinda jealous of that peanut they call brain. Sure would be useful to hear only things I want to hear.

Yeah my mum makes me question myself so much, only one of us can be right and I’m so sure it’s me but the way she tells me she’s right is so loud and emotional that I start to doubt myself and I don’t know what’s real anymore :(

ohh yeah thats happened a lot. big gaslighting thing. it can really play tricks with your memory. i suggest doing some kind of daily journaling or recollection to help with doubts of whether you are remembering events right. documenting the when, where, and how of events where they cause emotional or physical distress/harm can also be extremely important, especially if you are underage and find it necesarry to go through court stuff to get out. documentation can prove that they are unfit for parenting

My mother has selective memory as well, she once complained about someone saying something like, "I love you as my child but hate you as a person." and I hesitantly pointed out that she's told my siblings and I the same thing a couple times before whenever she was aangry with us. She denied it but then said, "Well if I did, I'm very sorry." and tried to change the subject. I told her it was no big deal anyway because, "When people are angry, they say certain things that they don't mean. I know you love us." and basically told her that I forgave her.

About a week later she yelled at me for waiting to take a shower after all of my siblings had gone, and told me that she "has always told me to take a shower first" even the rule she had for years stated that I'm only allowed to shower once all of the other kids have already gone. I told her that she's never told me that I was supposed to shower first, in fact it has always been the opposite. My mom tried to shut me up by guilt tripping me, "How DARE you call me a liar." My dad tries to tell us both to just let it go, but I was tired of her constantly making things for her own advantage to make me look like I was the disobedient or forgetful one and simply said, "But what she's saying isn't true." Yes it was a dangerous move and I knew my mom would lash out for me doing this but I didn't care at that moment. She yanked my hair and pulled me into the other room. She cornered me and then started throwing large toys at me, "I can't believe you're calling me a liar, making things up! Just like when you said that I told you guys that I didn't love you as people!" I ran into the bathroom crying.

A few weeks later, she notices that I'm moping around the house looking moody, and asks me why I look so upset. At first I don't tell her anything, but then I open up honestly about how upset I was that she denied about her saying, "You kids are terrible, I love you as my kids but HATE you as people." all because maybe they were loud (she had 7 kids at the time). Long story short, she basically told my I was crazy and that it was clearly all in my head because she, "Doesn't remember ever saying that." and says, "If I did ever say that to you I would admit it." yet later on also denies that she's ever told me or the other kids that we "can all go to hell". Next thing I know she drags me upstairs and starts banging my head against the wall and screaming at my face, as if that's going to prove to me that, "Oh clearly this shows how loving and sweet she truly is, there's no way she would've EVER said those sort of things to us before. I feel so stupid and delusional for even thinking such a thing lol."

At that point I've realized that calling her out for certain things that she's said or done to her kids wasn't going to fix our relationship at all. I've never brought it up again since, and have learned to never bring up anything else that she's ever done to me.

This is projection and gaslighting all the way. I also have a horrible Nex-roommate who did similar things--she'd deny having agreed to something, for example, and then blame me for "having a hard time remembering things" that happened according to her version of the story.

Oh definitely. My mom insists I haven't told her I'm nonbinary even though I told her back in 2011 and acts like the idea of me getting top surgery is a new thing even though I've told her several times I can't stand the fat bags attached to my chest.

I'm so sorry that you live with Nparents. I think the best way to stay sane until you can get out of there is to continue to seek support. I too have experienced my Nmom having selective memory, downplaying her role in abusive/undesirable situations, blaming me for her actions, and when all of those fail, apologizing with the least amount of sincerity. I have found it extremely helpful to find therapists, trusted friends, and self-help programs to find validation, understanding and support. Best of luck.

All the damn time. I thought for the longest time that I had a really bad short term memory. I thought I had a fucking brain tumour or something because apparently I was always wrong in conversation recall. Seriously, fuck NParents.

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